


The Playing House Affair

by mrua7



Category: The Girl from U.N.C.L.E., The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Children, Gen, Marriage, Sentimental, Spies & Secret Agents, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 06:41:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18338225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrua7/pseuds/mrua7
Summary: April Dancer and Napoleon Solo are partnered to bring a very important package to the New York Headquarters of U.N.C.L.E.  As always, complications arise.





	The Playing House Affair

“Mr. Solo, Miss Dancer I have a special assignment for the two of you, please be seated,” Alexander Waverly instructed them.

Napoleon gestured for April to sit down first; being a gentlemen he paused to help her with the chair. Though she was a liberated independent woman, she still appreciated those little niceties, especially when it was Solo doing them.

Waverly tapped his pipe in the crystal ashtray on the console beside him, emptying the bowl as he waited for  both agents to be seated.

“I have an important protection duty for you. You are to escort a Miss Angelina Bell back here to headquarters as she is very much the target of our usual adversaries...T.H.R.U.S.H.”

“Why do they want her?” April asked.

“Precisely my next point Miss Dancer. She apparently is a gifted telepath.”

“Please tell me she’s been checked for suspect hair combs?” Napoleon commented…”And she’s not from the South is she?” His mind racing to the Bat-Cave Affair, and the infamous Count Zark.”  

“No Mr. Solo, rest assured she is indeed the genuine article. This time I think she will be much more...shall we say, easier to deal with, than Miss Clemency McGill,” Waverly cleared his throat.

Napoleon cocked his eyebrows, casting a glance in April’s direction, one that was usually reserved for his Russian partner.

“Pardon me sir, but any particular reason we’re being paired instead of either of us working with our regular partners?”April asked.

“Miss Bell will be more inconspicuous in the company of a couple, and given the child is red haired, she’ll stand out even less,” the CCO sucked on the mouthpiece of his pipe.

“Child?” Napoleon asked politely, but swallowed hard. “Just exactly how old is Angelina Bell?”

‘I believe she is four years of age.” Waverly sent around two files, stopping the turning of the table when they reached his agents.

”At present she is in the custody of her grandmother...a Mrs. Charles Windham, whose daughter and son-in-law worked for U.N.C.L.E. at one time, meeting in these very hallowed halls as it were.”

“You may recall former Agent Tommy Bell Mr. Solo?”

“Yes, I do sir. He was a good man,” Napoleon shook his head.” His wife as well… a beautiful girl with hair similar to yours April.”

“You’re speaking in the past tense...what happened?”Dancer asked.

“Sadly former Agent Bell and wife Christine were killed in an automobile accident a month ago.  The police investigation deemed the circumstances suspicious.”

“I call a cut break line beyond suspicious,” Napoleon mumbled.

“Indeed,” Waverly finally lit his pipe, blowing a few smoke rings before continuing. “The child’s grandmother contacted me about the incident and the fact that her granddaughter was showing extraordinary psychic abilities.  Given the circumstances under which Bell and his wife died, it immediately became suspect that someone, most likely T.H.R.U.S.H. was interested in the little girl’s gift.”

“Where does the grandmother live?”

“In a well-to-do section of a town called Montclair, not far from here in New Jersey. It’s your assignment to masquerade as her parents and get her to headquarters and from here she’ll be taken to a safe house with a family to care for her. There she’ll be looked after and her powers investigated. She'll be reunited with her grandmother at a later date.”

“Mode of transportation sir?” April asked.

"You’ll pick up a station wagon from the motor pool. I want you two to look like a typical married couple going on a weekend get away with their daughter.

“Peachy,” Napoleon mumbled.

“Excuse me Mr. Solo, you have something to add?”

“No sir,” he tried not to shrink down in his chair,” just anxious to get going."

“Hmmm quite. You’ll both need a visit to wardrobe...and Mr. Solo keep it casual please. You are supposed to be portraying an average working man. So the ‘off the rack’ look will do quite nicely for you in this instance.”

“Understood sir,” again Napoleon kept himself from cringing. He swore that Waverly was trying not to crack a smile.

“Oh and another thing, the child apparently does not often communicate verbally, though she can speak. She seems to send her thoughts telepathically, sometimes just as emotions.  Her powers are growing and need to be explored and monitored. A child with such abilities in the wrong hands could be...well it’s unknown territory, but the possibilities are endless it seems.”

.

April and her temporary partner readied themselves for their roles as mom and dad.  Empty suitcases were loaded onto the luggage rack of the 1958 Rambler Ambassador Super just for effect. The four door wagon was a bit odd, with deluxe styling on the bottom, custom on the top and tail fins to boot.

“I wouldn't be caught dead driving one of these,” Napoleon mumbled out of the side of his mouth.

“Hey don’t use that word dead please?” April said, heading for the passenger side.

Dressed in a grey cardigan sweater over a polo shirt and a pair of khaki trousers, replete with white sox and a pair of penny loafers, Solo looked like he'd just stepped out of an episode of ‘Father knows best.’

“And these clothes…”

“You look fine darling,” April stole a reassuring kiss on the cheek. Though the two were lovers, there’d be no time for intimacy on this assignment.

April was wearing a black floral halter top dress with a full skirt, and covering her bare shoulders, a short light  waisted blue button-down sweater. She had a pair of sensible shoes on her feet.

“Well at least you look gorgeous,” he whispered, hugging her to his side.

“Down boy, no frisky business this time.”

“Can’t keep a good man down, “ he growled playfully as he opened the car door for her. “Your chariot Mrs. Cleaver.”

“Why thank you Ward dear, you’re such a gentleman.” She smiled back at him.

The drive was a relatively short one, as Napoleon headed up the FDR Drive, through the Lincoln Tunnel to Route 3 and staying on that until he reached Valley Rd. in Montclair. The trip took all of thirty minutes…

“Surprised at the hilly terrain, they both eyed a sign for Montclair State College, a venerable institution noted for its Physical Education department. The school dated back to the early 1900’s.

They found the address not far from the College. “There,” April pointed, “It’s that house there...the brick one.”

“Honey, they’re all brick.”

“Sorry it’s the one with the ummm, with the lawn jockey holding a lantern."

Napoleon pulled the car curbside, and both he and April got out, heading up the pristine walkway.

The house itself was quite large, not fitting any particular style of architecture. The grounds were neatly trimmed and landscaped, with red flowers circling the bases of the large shade trees and the bushes beneath the first floor windows. There were two pots of bright yellow mums sitting on either side of the brick steps.

They approached the door, and pausing as Napoleon stared at the highly polished brass door knocker of a lion’s head; he took hold of it, preparing to use it.  To his surprise the door swung open, apparently unlocked and ajar.

He looked at April, instinctively drawing his gun and she did the same.

“Mrs. Windham?” She called as the two of them stuck their heads inside.

There was no answer as they stepped in. Something was very wrong as a table was toppled over in the hall with the telephone knocked to the floor; the receiver was giving an off the hook dial tone. Other than that, the house was silent.

“I’ll check this floor, you take upstairs,”Napoleon whispered.

April nodded before tiptoeing up the oriental style carpeted stairs.

Napoleon walked slowly with his gun extended, checking out each room until he received an unexpected surprise...

The body of Mrs. Windham was sprawled out on the kitchen floor. A T.H.R.U.S.H. sleep dart protruding from her neck. When he checked her pulse there was none, yet her skin was still warm to the touch.

There were medication bottles on the counter and Napoleon picked them up one by one, reading the labels. They were all in Mrs. Windham’s name and he supposed given she was on such a large number of drugs, there might have have been an interaction between the chemicals in the T.H.R.U.S.H. dart and what was already in her system.

He shook his head as he rose, feeling a sudden breeze coming from the back of the kitchen. Sheer curtains fluttered in the air revealing an open sliding door, possibly the escape route for whomever might have been here.

“Napoleon!” April shouted from the hall. “I need you.”

He turned and ran, though her voice had no sense of urgency to it.

There at the bottom of the stairs Dancer stood, holding the adorable Angelina; the hazel-eyed child cocooned in the agent’s arms, sucking away on her tiny thumb.

“I found her hiding under a bed. She told me her grandmother said to go there and not make a sound. Poor darling is terribly frightened, and knows something has happened to her Nana. Napoleon, she told me all this and never uttered a single word.”

“Hi sweetheart, my name is Nap…”

 _“Napoleon, that’s a funny name,_ ” he heard a tiny voice in his head. _“You’re here to take me to a safe place.”_

That time both agents heard the child’s words.

“That’s not polite sweetie,” April whispered, “You really shouldn’t listen in to other people’s thoughts.

“Sorry,” Angelina actually spoke this time.

“Honey you need to come with us, understand? We’re here to keep you safe from the bad men.”

The child shook her head in agreement.

“Now show me your room and help me pack some clothes and a few of your favorite toys...okay?” April whispered, giving Angelina a little tickle in the tummy.

She giggled her response. “See I knew you could smile,” April laughed with her. The agent looked to Solo with concern in her eyes as she took the child upstairs again.

“Open Channel D- Solo.

“Yes Mr. Solo what have you to report?” Waverly bruskly responded.

“Mrs. Windham is dead sir, took a THRUSH sleep dart to the neck, it must have been too much for her.”

“And the child?” There was a sense of urgency in his in his voice.

“Is fine sir. We think we surprised the intruders and they took off before they could find her. She’s with Miss Dancer now packing a few things.”

“That is indeed a relief Mr. Solo. A slight change of plans, you won’t return to New York tonight but will stay in safe house farther south. I suspect THRUSH will believe you to be making a beeline for headquarters here. Instead you’ll be taking her to our headquarters in Washington D.C. I will notify them to expect you in….no more than five hours. Report upon your arrival. Out.”

Napoleon rubbed his face with his hand, not believing how this was going. Five hours in a car with a telepathic four year old? “Ughhhh.”

‘What’s wrong darling?”April said, she was carrying Angelina in one arm with a teddy bear tucked under the other and a small suitcase in her hand.

“We need to get going; we’ve got a long trip ahead of us,” he announced

“What do you mean? It’s a half hour ride back to headquarters.”

“Nope, we’re now heading to Washington as per Mr. Waverly.”

“Hear that sweetheart? We’re going on a nice trip?”

“ Washington?” Angelina whispered into April’s ear.

“That’s the capital of our country. Did you ever hear the name George Washington?”

“Mmm-huh, daddy said he chopped down a cherry tree and,” she giggled,” he had wooden teeth.”

“That’s exactly right,” Napoleon smiled, as he glanced at April, “You’re pretty smart Angelina Bella mia, and the place where we’re going. Washington, was named after George. What else was George famous for?”

There was complete silence and suddenly Napoleon and April’s heads were filled with a single thought.

_“The bad men are coming back.”_

They dashed out the front door, piling into the Rambler and taking off at top speed down Valley Road.

Just as they turned the corner, April looked back, seeing a black sedan pull up in front of the Windham house and park there.

“It won’t take them long to figure out it was us who took Angelina,” she said.

“No kidding Mrs. Cleaver. I think we need to ditch this car. Napoleon pulled down a side street and made another turn.  There they pulled up behind a bright red convertible.

“That’ll do,” Napoleon smiled.”

“A bit obvious isn’t it?”

“April that is a brand new Thunderbird Sports Roadster, with vinyl-roofed Landau and simulated S-bars besides being a convertible. It has 48-spoke Kelsey Hayes-designed wire wheels and a special fiberglass tonneau cover for the rear seats so it gives the car the appearance of a two-seat roadster like the original Thunderbird, yet it seats four.”

“Napoleon dearest, I had no idea you were that into cars,” she watched, holding Angelina by the hand as he hotwired the ignition.

“Not just cars April...convertibles,” he smiled and quickly tossed the child’s belongings into the back seat as they all got into the car.

“Most importantly, it has a V8 engine, lots of power and we're going to need it.”

He checked the gas gauge, noting there was a full tank, and he slowly pulled away, leaving the Rambler behind them. with the keys of course and a quick note for the owner of the Roadster to contact UNCLE regarding their missing car.

They returned to Valley Road, seeing the black sedan go past them, no doubt in search of the Rambler station wagon. Napoleon turned in a different direction, certain the Thrushes in the sedan hadn’t noticed them. April kept the child down on her lap, completely out of view.

He took a rather circuitous route, heading back to Route 3 towards the Lincoln Tunnel, but taking the turn off for the Garden State Parkway, eventually making his way to the Jersey Turnpike, better known as I-95.

They would be heading straight south, through Jersey down to Maryland and finally the District of Columbia.

The ride was surprisingly pleasant, with April keeping Angelina amused, and when she was tired of talking, Napoleon took over, telling the child a story called ‘The three billy goats gruff…’

Finally Angelina drifted off to sleep.

“She’s a brave little girl,” April sighed, stroking the child’s baby soft red hair. “I hope I have a daughter like her someday.”

“You want children?”

“Yes I do, though one can only hope to survive this job to be able to become a mother.”

“April isn’t forty a little late for a woman to be having a baby?”

“Darling I’m not planning on staying with UNCLE until retirement age. I’m devoted to the Command, but I have a right to a life and a family. Napoleon don’t you want that someday? I mean, even Illya has told me he’d like to have a family of his own.”

“Yes he told me that too, but he prefaced it with ‘if he lives long enough and if he could meet a woman who would tolerate him.”

April laughed. “He’s not that bad. I bet under that cold exterior beats the heart of a softie. I know he likes children.”

It was Solo’s turn to laugh. “Illya a softie….hmm, better be careful spouting that. You’ve never seen him get his hackles up like I have.”

“Napoleon you still didn’t answer my question.”

“Thought I’d dodged that one. Tsk. I’m not sure I’m cut out to be a father, or get married again.”

“Again?” April loudly blurted out,” Again?” She whispered this time.

“It isn’t a known fact, but I was married when I was nineteen...my wife was killed in a car accident.”

“Oh Napoleon, I’m so sorry. I had no idea,” her face flushed with embarrassment.

“April my love no need for that. It was a long time ago, but granted it’s made me have second thoughts about ever marrying again. And kids,” he refrained from rolling his eyes.”I don’t think children and I get along.”

“Excuse me? You’ve been absolutely wonderful with Angelina here. You’ve made her smile and laugh, kept her amused….granted dads have to do more than that. Sometimes they have to be the heavy, the teacher and disciplinarian, but they’re full of love too.  I think there’s that kind of love in your heart, even though you don’t want to admit it.”

Angelina’s eyes suddenly popped wide open. _“Bad men,”_ she said telepathically _.”Driving in a car, a big black car. Four bad men_.”

Napoleon looked in the rearview mirror, spotting the sedan tailing them.

“Damn, how the hell did they find us?”  He pushed the accelerator, increasing the Thunderbird’s speed, and the sedan did the same.

April pulled her communicator, contacting Washington headquarters.  
  
“Dancer here, we’re on L Street and being pursued by a carload of Thrushies. We need a back up team to meet us for escort immediately.”

No sooner had she said that when a shot was fired, hitting one of the tires. The Thunderbird swerved as Napoleon fought to keep control of the wheel; a second shot, blew another tire.

“Hang on!” He yelled as they headed for a lamp post, hitting it with a loud boom!

April slowly opened her eyes, still holding onto the now crying Angelina. The car horn was blaring as Napoleon was leaning against it, unconscious.  Water and steam were spewing out of the engine.

“Shusssh, baby,” she whispered,”You’re all right.” April gave the little girl the once-over just in case and found nothing wrong.

“Outta the car lady!” A basso voice ordered her.

A burly Thrushman stood next to the car, pointing a gun right at her and the child. He reached down, wrenching the door open.

 _“Bad man!”_ The little girl screamed in April’s head.

“Angel sweetheart you need to stop that. I need to think,” she whispered.

“My mommy called me Angel,” Angelina whispered this time.

“Move it bitch!” The goon grabbed April by the arm, pulling her hard enough to make her drop the little girl.

 _“NOOOO!”_ The child screamed. _“You won’t hurt her. You hurt my Mommy, Daddy and Nana but you’re not gonna hurt her….she’s my friend!”_

The Thrushman grabbed his temples, dropping his pistol as he was seemingly writhing in pain. As a matter of fact all the Thrushes were doing the same thing.

“Get out of my head, get her out of my head!” He screamed before collapsing, as did his cohorts, one after the other. They dropped like flies, apparently dead before hitting the pavement.

The backup team pulled up moments later, taking charge of the scene; calling a medical transport for Solo, and a coroner’s van for the Thrushmen.

April rode with the other agents, keeping a firm hold on the child as they headed to headquarters.

“Angel, what did you do to those men? One of them screamed for you to get out of his head,” she whispered into the child’s ear.

“I told him he was a bad man for hurting my family and you, and Napoleon too, so I told him he needed to go away. I made his head stop working.”

“You made his head stop working?” April repeated, unsure of what to make of that.

They arrived at headquarters, and April surrendered Angelina to one of the nurses.

She knelt beside the girl, speaking reassuringly. “Don’t worry sweetie, this nice lady is going to take good care of you. You have to trust me on this.”

 _“I know,”_ came the reply,” _I saw it in your head you’re telling the truth.”_

“Angel, what did I tell you about doing that?” April pretended to scold her.

“Sorry,” the child looked at her with the saddest eyes possible, her bottom lip quivering just a little.

“Promise me you’ll be a good girl and listen to these nice people? No crying now, you’re a big girl.” April hugged her one last time.  
  
“I will, I promise.”

“Angel, if you ever want to talk to me, just tell them and they’ll put through a  telephone call to me, all right?”

It was all April could do to keep from her eyes from welling up. She’d gotten attached to the little one in such a short time;that was a bit disconcerting. Maybe wanting to become a mother was more important to her than she’d realized.

April steeled herself, turning away and walked out the door not looking back. It was something she learned from Illya…”Never look back”, he told her.

She was suddenly filled with an overwhelming feeling, one she could only describe as love. Not her love, but an emotion coming into her, filling her very being. For a moment her heart began to pound.

“Thank you Angel,” she whispered as she headed down the hall to Napoleon’s room.

He’d finished dressing and was just getting ready to button up his cardigan when April appeared. She stepped to his side, pushing away his hands and did it for him.

There was a sizeable lump on his head and a bandage covering a small cut on his cheekbone.

“Poor baby, want me to kiss and make it better Mr. Cleaver?”

Without waiting, she did just that, planting one on his lips and he, of course, responded immediately.

“Hmmm, Mrs. Cleaver, I have it on good source that we don’t have to be back to New York for another 48 hours.”

“Oh really,” she smiled.” And how do you know that?”

“Because I just filed a report with Mr. Waverly. He suggested we stay to make the child’s transition easier.”

“I don’t think there’ll be any problem with that. Angelina Bell is wise beyond her years, and understands what’s going on. I did tell her if she wanted to talk that she could tell her caretakers to call me anytime. In spite of all she’s gone through, I think she’s going to be fine.”

“Nice mothering instinct my dear,” Napoleon pulled her close. “Speaking of mothering. I have this boo-boo you see that needs some tender loving care. Would you know of anyone who might be interested in that particular position…maybe a few other _positions_ as well?”

“Napoleon, you are incorrigible. Hmm I wonder where we can go? We can’t use guest quarters here.”

“As a matter of fact, I know a great luxury hotel not far from here called the Monaco.”

“Really?” April looked at him suspiciously.” Your usual rendezvous place with the ladies?”

“Don’t judge,” he tapped her on the end of the nose.

“I wasn’t, I was just wondering whose expense account we were going to put it on.”

“Whose? Well I was hoping we could split …”

“Napoleon!”

“You’re starting to sound an awful lot like my partner. You’ve been hanging around Illya too much.”

“Very funny! All right Mr. Cleaver, let’s go play house for a while.” April led him out of the room, holding Napoleon by the hand. “Mommy’s going to make baby feel much, much better.”

“I sincerely hope so,  though I’d prefer you not use the mommy analogy?”

“Why you’re the daddy figure and I’m the mommy, and daddys are the biggest babies of all!”

“ _Trés drole_ April,” Napoleon crinkled his nose.

“You know Illya is right, your French accent is awful.” April commented as they stepped onto the elevator.

“You’re definitely hanging around with him too much…

  
  


* Season 2 Man from UNCLE


End file.
